Hours of Sunlight
by Blueberryteeth
Summary: England messes up a spell for Norway and his past and present selves get switched.
1. Preface

_A/N: This story is one of those innocent prompts from the kink meme. It was supposed to be Norway and young Norway got switched and Denmark teaches young Norway about technology. And there was a line I was supposed to use about a puffin and a calculator._

* * *

Constant worrying was making Norway miserable. Berwald and Tino had finally managed to run away from Den. They would occasionally call him and update him on what was happening, but they always refused to talk to Denmark. Norway talked to Iceland about it because something felt... off without them. _"You honestly think they'll stay away forever?"_ Iceland reasoned. _"Well..."_ It was starting to seem that way. With this spell, he would be able to prove to himself that what his brother said was true. 20 years was a good amount of time for things to blow over, was it not? Okay, maybe not for a country, but he was a little scared of what was to come.

"I thought you said you weren't going to do this anymore."

"I said I wouldn't do _black_ magic anymore. And that was just to calm down Italy," England clarified with a wicked grin. Norway looked away. He trusted England, but magic did have a mind of its own. And a way of turning whoever used it slightly insane. At least temporarily.

"So where do we start?" The Scandinavian had done simple magic before, but nothing as complex as this. He had come to get a glimpse of the future, so he assumed they would be using a form of scrying. Norway didn't know all the details, but it was mentioned in one of the books he read once.

"There's no ritual, just a spell. Or at least there will be! If only I could find that bloody spell book!" England started to leave the room grumbling about paperwork and how everything gets lost in it. He would have had an easier time locating all of his magic-making materials if he was in the room he was used to instead of the living room.

This morning, walking to England's house through a blizzard and then waiting for England to open the door, he had heard tinkling noises coming from his right. Through a darkened window he could see stacks of thick books illuminated by strange colored lights. Norway knew England had a secret spell casting room, but whenever he asked about it England denied its existence. So instead here he was, standing in a normally furnished room that didn't really complete the mystical atmosphere. Though the light blue walls did make everything seem calmer.

"Oh, that's fine, actually. I would be more comfortable if we used mine first." A real prophecy would have been nice to hear, but he didn't know of any Völva in the area.

"But I don't know your-"

"It's easy. You'll be fine," Norway cut in. He reached down and picked up a blue book on the floor that was previously unnoticed by the British nation. Years of wear showed on the cover that was probably made from some animal hide. A small gold cross was emblazoned on the front. Several sticky notes slipped between pages further pointed to its frequent usage. Norway thumbed through them and found the one he wanted in the middle of the book. "Is this one good?" he asked, pointing to an old prayer written in neat script.

"Blast it, I can't read this!"

"Just flip to the next section." England sighed and paired it with an eye roll. _"Lære meg i drømmer. Berike livet mitt…" _the Nordic country read along silently in his head.

"How am I supposed to know where that starts? You know, _this_ makes me remember my school days, when all the English teachers taught their students how to pronounce 'o's with slashes through them." The sarcasm in his voice was probably potent enough to be its own magic.

"Actually, it has many different pronunci..." Arthur sighed again and quietly suggested that he finish praying now. Norway muttered something that England wouldn't have been able to understand even if he said it louder, asking Freyja for a vision of the future or some type of comfort; preferably one where all his brothers' problems had been resolved. He also hoped that nothing would go wrong with his friend's spell (From listening to other countries' experiences with England's spell-casting abilities, Norway figured he might end up needing divine intervention).

The British nation left the room. He needed to find that book! Luckily for him, he was greeted by two small fairies in the hallway. Both of them held on to a corner of a thick book with various runes painted on.

"Oh, thanks!"

"We figured you would need this," said the one in the blue dress. "It was under-gggh-a stack of cookbooks-ugggh-really, you should look at those more-" she grunted, struggling to hold the book up. England rushed back to the living room with it.

A few minutes of quiet passed, and Norway faced England again.

England was seriously wondering what was going through his mind. He could easily find out with a simple spell.

_No, that's not right, no privacy-invasive spells on friends..._he reminded himself.

Norway's hand had gone up to his cross twice while he was praying. This couldn't be about his brothers, could it? Well, there was almost no way to get Norway to tell you something if he wasn't ready. "Ready to give my magic a go?" England suggested.

"It's proven to work?"

"Proven. Yes, proven…" England added with a laugh that echoed around the room. Technically, the leather-bound book said the spell was for "gaining insight". His fairy friends called it "spying" but he found that word a little extreme. Just a little.

"Fine," Norway reluctantly agreed. The Brit started casting his spell, speaking in low, measured tones. Sadly, he was distracted by fiddle music that started to play out of nowhere.

A mildly annoyed expression appeared on Norway's face. It would have been more severe, except he was one of those people who personalized his ring tones. This ring tone was actually louder than the person it was set for, so he figured he was alright. Before he pressed the green button that would allow him to talk to Iceland, he tried to regain his composure. "Happy thoughts. Umm… um…" As he struggled to think, a voice whispered in his ear.

"Fairies."

"Sure, fairies. Hey wait—"

_What was it about privacy again?_

Norway's finger accidentally pressed down on the button it was touching and his mood automatically improved as the voice came through.

"Hey, Nor."

"Wanna come ice fishing with us today?" An impatient Danish voice asked.

"Stop breathing over my shoulder," Iceland swatted Denmark away playfully.

"I can't come right now, sorry," Norway replied.

Denmark piped up again. "But remember that other time you didn't come?"

"I was sick—" defended Norway.

"Finland caught a huuuuge fish but it almost ripped the pole out of his hands and then Sweden made this epic lunge for it," -he erupted into a fit of laughter- "He fell in up to his neck before Finland caught him!" Denmark told him. Iceland started to tap his foot on the floor, getting impatient. They only got so much sunlight a day; they should make good use of it.

"Why are you laughing? Didn't Iceland get mad and push you in for that?" Norway asked.

Yes; the lighter-haired nation remembered that.

"Norway, are we still going ahead with this?" England asked.

"Um, yeah, I can't come, but I promise I'll tell you about it later, I'm with England." He quickly closed the phone. Conversations with Denmark could go on for_ever_. Britain glared, then started again.

"You have to do something, too."

"Hmmm? Oh, yeah." Norway was busy trying to brace himself for the spell and trying to quell his nervousness. He leaned over his book that England was now holding. "Clear your mind. Focus solely on…" Norway read the instructions from the book aloud, half to himself. He tried to do what it said and focus on what exactly he wanted to see, and where. How far he wanted to see.

Norway started glowing and feeling a strange sensation, until his nervousness faded along with his consciousness.


	2. Chapter 2

_I dag..._

"Tillykke med fødselsdagen! Late birthday, that is..." Denmark laughed guiltily. He usually got late birthday presents for everyone, because he forgot until the last minute. He always made sure his presents were awesome, though! But he wasn't expecting this drastic a change. Still, Norway deserved a present no matter how old he was.

"Your brain is turning to slush," Norway commented on the unfamiliar words, thinking his brother was just messing with him today. Normally he'd be extra annoying on the actual day of his birthday and say he forgot what day it was; whichever day he picked to celebrate a belated birthday was the one where he was... sweeter and more tolerable. "So, uh... how old are you? Now?"

"Could you quit talking like that? I can't understand you."

"Like what? Oh, right." Denmark had to make a conscious effort to switch back to Old Norse, like he used to when they lived together with Finland and Sweden. The first few hours Norway was here, he had to constantly remind the Dane to speak so they could understand each other. Granted, his Norwegian was a bit rusty because he hadn't spoken it for so long. It made the smaller nation feel out of place, as if there was a barrier in between them. Norway took the gift from his hand. He could feel the anticipation building up inside him as he looked at the colorful paper and crisp edges. The present didn't look... real. The way the bow shined in the light completed the unnatural effect. "Iceland helped me wrap it, I hope you don't mind." Norway turned the box over and over, removing any piece of tape he could find so it would be easier to take off the paper without ripping it. "Come on, Nor, it's... only...paper," Denmark said between breaths. The anticipation was killing him! _Rip it rip it rip it come on! See what it is!_ Norway finally tugged the bow off and uncovered a mysterious rectangular object. "What's this?" Norway asked, pressing random buttons on the small keyboard.

"It's a... holder. For all your books, in case you want to take them somewhere." The shorter nation's eyes lit up. This mysterious item had piqued his interest.

"How?"

"What do you mean, how? Digitally. You can read stories on it. After you download them." Norway just stared at him, puzzled. "Digitally-you know, electronically? Like, not really but really? " The younger smiled.

"Den? We didn't have anything this advanced a long time ago."

Denmark remembered those times. Lighting fires every night to keep warm and huddling together. Waking up to his younger brother huddled in his coat reading by lantern light. Actually, he could also remember (accidentally) extinguishing said lantern with a snowball while trying to catch his brother's attention after a bad dream. At the time, his bad aim just made Norway upset because he couldn't read anymore and plunged them both into more darkness.

Norway thought his new age, with all its conveniences, was the complete opposite from how things were back then. Although it _did _still have licorice. He had found it while exploring this strange new place England brought him to after he passed out. The house looked nice and homey, with dark, firm wooden walls contrasting with the snow. He could also see through a sliding glass door a fire burning brightly. Norway figured that the reason he passed out was because of the cold ("But I'm wearing a scarf, Nii-chan!" "If you're going out skiing you need more than that- wait!"). It looked slightly different from his own, but seeing Denmark and a lack of his huge battle-ax made him feel secure. Leaving the British nation to try to explain, he hurried in the kitchen and didn't. See. Finland. Weird. No fishy smell either. Looking around and opening lots of cabinets, he found a huge stash of licorice and put some in his pocket for later. Oh man, licorice was so good! He never really let his brothers know how much he liked it, though…

"Nor, think of it like this. Technology (he held up the reader as an example) is... pretty much all the new stuff around here. Computers, cell phones, televisions..." Norway still didn't seem to get it. "You know what? Robots. Think robots. Once I got this movie from England that he said he borrowed from America with robots. Maybe if I show it to you, you'll understand?"

Norway nodded, uncertain. What was a movie?

"We need more people. It's a shame no one comes up north to have a party with us!"

"Shh!" Norway said from the floor in front of the couch, an old storybook wedged between his fingers. Reading could keep him occupied for hours. He had first plopped down on the couch, but every so often he would flip or roll over to get the blood flowing again. When that happened Norway would end up on the floor rubbing a sore tailbone. Eventually he had stopped sitting on the couch after the third time. Thus, the floor.

Denmark would have kept chattering, but he thought of a way to annoy two guests at once (Iceland was almost like a guest, since he was really quiet and the times he really talked he was like a whole separate person. Then again, everyone was quiet compared to him).

"Put me down!" The blows on Denmark's back weren't that painful, so he found it easy to keep carrying Iceland down the stairs. Easy until his puffin joined the struggle. The black bird circled Denmark's head, nipping and pulling at the messy hair.

"Come on, just watch a movie with us." Before Iceland could finish protesting he added, "It's for Nor's good."

"I fail to see how any of _your_ movies could help...Norway? What happened?" He momentarily forgot about escaping Denmark's grasp and stared at the scene of Norway from his past. In his shock, he slipped back into his old language, the one they used to share.

"Er det bare meg, eller har du fått yngre?" Denmark had the good sense to put him down at that point. As soon as his feet hit the floor Iceland took a seat next to the small blond boy. After about five minutes of Iceland's inconspicuous glances aimed at Norway, he finally greeted him.

"Uh, yeah. Congrats."

That didn't sound like a happy birthday. It would have been nice to get one from Iceland, but maybe it wasn't wise to ask. Everything was different and it was slightly intimidating. But the new arrival thought it was nice to feel his brother's warmth again; he had been slowly scooting closer to Iceland after he sat down. It felt different, though as he had gotten taller and maybe even a little more muscular. Denmark had always been strong, but as Norway looked at him now, he could just barely see that he had also gotten older. There was a little more seriousness in his eyes than he remembered, still mixed in among the playfulness. Mr. Puffin was the only one who hadn't changed, so Norway reached down to stroke his feathers, but he pulled away and threatened to bite him. Same as ever.

Iceland pulled away, too. He glared at Denmark when Iceland knocked his book out of his hands. The youngest nation started explaining (glad people were speaking his own language again) and telling what had happened.

Apparently he just passed out and ended up in the United Kingdom, nothing weird about that. Iceland stayed silent. _"At least I've moved up one notch on the Nordic height totem pole," _he thought.

The tallest opened a glass cabinet and put a disc into a strange machine. Iceland slowly got up and walked to the kitchen with a puffin chattering the whole way. There was the sound of a cupboard banging open, a soft "ow" and lots of wrappers crinkling. "I could have sworn I bought more of these," mused a confused Iceland. The violet-eyed platinum blond soon returned with a black stick of licorice hanging out of his mouth. He had another bowl full of licorice in his arm so he could eat them throughout the movie. He and Norway, if he liked them. When he was older he liked them but was not crazy for them. Iceland took a seat next to Norway on the floor and set the bowl between them.

"This," Denmark tapped the top of the television, "is a tv. It shows movies, which are real life stories that people act out and are recorded for the audience's viewing pleasure. And you are about to become enlightened in the ways of technology!" Iceland rolled his eyes.

He picked up the DVD case and flipped it over. "Transformers? I thought you returned this weeks ago. Are you sure-" Denmark flipped the lights off and the movie started. Iceland's eyes glazed over from habit. Don't get him wrong, he _could_ enjoy action movies once in a while, but after sitting through Den's 10-hour movie marathon last week he could care less.

The three Nordic countries watched the screen and an assortment of regular everyday objects, like radios or televisions or fire trucks unfold and become massive figures with glowing eyes and sharp, rotating edges. The metal characters on the screen were supposed to be looking for a cube, or something, to get back to their planet or whatever.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary to Iceland until they were a good bit of the way through the movie and he caught a glimpse of his brother's face next to him. It was no longer pale, but white and he was chewing nervously on a strand of licorice. Iceland grabbed the remote from the couch and pressed the read button that cut off the metal robots in mid-battle.

Denmark scowled, but softened when he saw Norway's scared face. "I thought you said this was for his own good," Iceland said quietly.

"I tried to explain the concept of technology to him, so I thought an example would help."

"Seriously? It would have been better if you called Germany, even though he would have explained it from a workaholic's perspective. He works with it so much; he would know how to explain it without scaring him. You sheep!" Denmark started laughing at his pathetic insult when Norway spoke up.

"So how long until my present turns into... a...a..."

"Calm down Nor, they're not real."

"But Den said that movies were real life stories acted out and recorded." Another sigh. Iceland put his arm around Norway's shoulder, hoping it would help.

"Oops," Denmark said sheepishly. "Well, if they were real, I could always fight them off with my trusty companion!" He grabbed an ax that had been leaning against the wall behind the couch. The blade glinted in the light as soon as he picked it up. (Norway wondered how he did not notice this.)

"So if they're not real and technology isn't that-" he shuddered "scary, then why did you show it to me?" Denmark looked down uneasily, realizing his mistake. But hey, cool robots _were_ the cool side of technology. Seeing how Denmark felt bad about his mistake, he tried to change the subject (to something he was familiar with; he didn't want to be 'enlightened' and scared again). "So, where are Finland and Sweden?"

Translations:

I dag (Norwegian—I used this because translators don't have Old Norse): In the present

Völva-Norwegian oracle

Freyja- Norwegian goddess of love, war, and beauty

(Norwegian) _Lære meg i drømmer. Berike livet mitt_-Teach me in dreams. Enrich my life (This is part of a prayer I found online).

(Danish) Tillykke med fødselsdagen! - Happy birthday!

(Norwegian) Er det bare meg, eller har du fått yngre? - Is it just me, or did you get younger?


	3. Chapter 3

_I siste..._

A small blond nation finished casually sweeping away the fine layer of dust and dirt that generally gathered on the floor. Skirting the small pile he had made, he laid the wooden broom against the wall and stared out the square window. There weren't any animals that he could see, or any wind rusting the leaves of the trees.

"It's hard to keep smiling when it gets so lonely up here," Finland mused uncertainly.

"W'ldn't w'rry 'b't 't," said a low voice to his right. Finland wasn't sure why Sweden stuck around; he was only cleaning. A loud yell startled both of them, though one nation jumped as if someone had poured ice down his shirt and the other's glasses slipped down his nose an inch.

Neither of them heard the soft slam that followed the scream. Iceland turned and locked the door behind him, taking comfort in the fact that young Vikings probably didn't care to pick well-made locks. And that Denmark would probably have enough sense to not go busting down a door in his own house. Just in case, the white-haired nation calmly walked as far away from the door as possible.

"It was quieter in my nest than here," Mr. Puffin remarked.

"You get used to it," Iceland admitted.

* * *

"Aww, where'd Ice go?" Denmark wondered. Why was he always so hard to find? It wasn't like he could turn invisible or anything. All he was doing was running through the house, hoping to get a taste of the thrill that would come with pillaging a real village and taking over towns! He had heard that there was some land over to the west, and he knew it would help him since he was a rapidly growing nation.

Denmark leaned against the wall to rest (Chasing people was hard work!) and bumped into an old painting of a mermaid that had been hanging since before he could remember. It never occurred to him to straighten the crooked silver frame, but it would to Finland later even though he couldn't reach. Accompanying the loud noise was a slightly less loud but more insistent barking.

* * *

"Hana, quit that, I'll get you a few treats from the cupboard." The fluffy puppy ignored the promise of a reward, which he could fully understand, and padded over to the door where he continued barking. He really wanted a doggy door installed, but that hadn't happened yet.

His owner shushed him, but Hanatamago didn't stop barking until Finland gave in and opened the door to prove nobody was there. Except that nobody turned out to be a really familiar looking somebody with blue eyes and a cross pin in his hair. Sort of like someone he knew.

Even a troll could see that England's magic had failed. Or maybe that was what it usually did, Norway didn't know. He approached the house and looked down at the ground while he waited for the door to open. The mouth of the boy inside dropped open.

"S-Sve?"

The Swede looked up. The view he could have had of the visitor was obstructed by the wall and a bookcase.

"Wh't 's 't?"

Norway wasn't sure what to say at first. Eventually he went with something like, "I'm your brother from the future and I don't look threatening so let me in."

"Norway got bigger," Finland replied to Sweden. The latter stood up and was at the door in a few long strides.

"F'rg't y'r key?"

Actually he hadn't; it was in his pocket. The locks had been changed anyways, over the years. But not by Iceland. Iceland insisted that it wasn't him.

The Finnish nation recovered himself and broke into a grin. "You could have just come down the chimney. The soot brushes off." He picked up Hanatamago so Norway didn't have to step over him to get inside. Norway felt a little nostalgic after hearing languages he hadn't heard for years. He didn't want to brood at the doorstep, however. It was his house, so he figured he was entitled to his old room. He climbed the stairs, leaving the other two nations alone again.

"He really did something to himself this time. You think we can help him?" Finland asked curiously.

Sweden could hear footsteps above him; he had thought his brother would go to his own space. He walked back into the living room, Finland following.

"'v'nt'lly."

* * *

On the way up Norway walked past the same hallway with the mermaid painting. When he was about his brothers' current age he would sometimes splash in the sea by the coast and meet a few mermaids himself. He was wrapped up in the picture and didn't notice his brother standing next to it until it was too late (even though he was wearing his favorite color, a vibrant red).

"Hej!"

Norway turned to leave for the sanctity of his room.

"Oh, come on, don't run from me, too." He pretended to be disappointed, but his pout was much too big for it to be serious. And his ax was sitting next to him, which didn't exactly make people want to come closer.

Norway looked back over his shoulder.

"Look, I know you're all 'mature' and stuff, but you didn't have to grow up so

fast!" Hmm. Denmark accepted the situation fairly well.

"Uhh... It was a time mishap. With magic and stuff. But I'll be gone soon."

Norway wanted to leave again so he wouldn't have to deal with all the awkward questions.

* * *

"Huh. The noise stopped. It really stopped. _Endelig noen rolig._" Iceland stood up and warily approached the door. The growls of his stomach could be heard over his voice. Iceland had been on his way down to the kitchen to get some fish for both of them to eat (his cooked, of course) when Denmark had decided to "practice".

"I had better not get tackled upon opening this door," he thought. Denmark was bigger than him, and he really didn't want to get caught.

"The coast is clear," Mr. Puffin said.

Iceland unlocked and peeked outside the door, ready to pull back at any moment like a seal coming up for air. His brother was nowhere in sight, and he relaxed a little. Just a little. He took a few cautious steps out of his room, and froze up again when he glanced at the hallway.

"Oof!"

He forgot to move out of the way and accidentally bumped into Norway. "Great. Now my big brother is even bigger," he thought sarcastically. Iceland quickly

got up and brushed himself off like nothing happened. "What did you do this time?" He got straight to the point. Some weird things had happened in the past, and he had learned to accept them.

"What kind of 'mishap'?" The young Dane asked.

Norway sighed. So it looked like they _were_ having this conversation.

"It's cool, 'cause you're older and taller and stronger. I've been trying to get stronger myself."

Iceland rolled his eyes and whispered something to Norway. He had done _something_ to himself, but Iceland figured he still deserved the courtesy of not getting an ax through his head. Nothing but common courtesy, it wasn't because Norway was his brother that he was telling him this.

"He's a little overexcited about being a Viking. Nothing new."

"Sverige! Finland! Norge wants to tell you a story!" Denmark shouted.

"No, I don't!" He wasn't prepared for a bigger audience. But, you know, he made an exception for the two people he hadn't seen in years. He had planned to visit with them after he had had some time to himself, but he couldn't see a way out of this situation.

"Yay! I thought it would be a while before he talked to us!" The Finnish nation's voice carried up the stairs. It made him happy when Sweden grabbed hishand and led him upstairs. Even though his was so much bigger. Sweden had been wondering what had happened himself, but he wasn't feeling inquisitive.

"There's not much to tell."

He looked around at each face in turn. Finland's cheeks were rounder, but other than that he was as he remembered him. Sweden was shorter of course, as was everyone else. He felt like a giant, but since he was the one closest to an adult here, his storytelling instincts were slowly coaxed out.

"Wh'r's th' y'ng'r N'rw?" Sweden asked.

"I went to my room, and I didn't see him there. If I was anywhere, I think I'd be hiding from your Viking games, Den."

"They are pretty terrifying," agreed Finland.

Norway's head had almost stopped spinning from the mental strain that was his brothers, and he was starting to think he had been let off the hook. Until Denmark spoke up.

"Story, then?"

Since it seemed he had no choice, he slipped into his tale, happy he didn't have to translate. Except for Sweden, but he was old enough to her the similarities in the words and get the gist of it.

"After all these years," he began, "I have kept the magic of our ancestors close to my heart. I remember he ancient ways of doing things-" mostly "-you should remember them, too." (Hint, hint.) If he could get the message in while they were still young, maybe his brothers wouldn't turn away from their gods like he knew they would in the future! It wasn't likely, but you never knew.

" I longed for a vision of the future; but this time I made the grave mistake of asking England for help. I traversed the rugged mountains and crossed a small sea to get to his house."

"Untrue," young Iceland coughed.

"It's a nice story," Norway continued.

"But nations never go through that much trouble to visit other nations. It's like they have giant footsteps. The distance between us just doesn't seem that great."

"You know, whatever," Norway continued. "Anyway I asked him for help seeing into the future, and he messed up, and now I'm here." Well, he guessed that was what he deserved for using a non-traditional type of magic.

"So, wait-" Norway didn't want to wait, the circle they were sitting in was starting to feel claustrophobic-"if you're here- and- past-you or whatever you want to call him, isn't, but he's still alive—and he must be, because he's you-then that means there are two Norways!"

"No..." Iceland facepalmed and Finland's dog barked from somewhere downstairs.

"Yessss! Two Norways!" He held up two fingers to illustrate. "I'm getting a new brother! Well, sort of new..." he trailed off.

"No..." Iceland said softly again.

* * *

Translations:

I siste(Norwegian): In the past...

Endelig noen rolig (Norwegian): Finally some quiet.


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: Just to clear things up, in this chapter Greenland visits the Nordics. She is a girl, and this is the time there was a high suicide rate in this country._

* * *

_I dag..._

Both of them tired of Denmark's rule? He could understand that, but why did the truth have to be so blunt and bitter? It didn't even make for a good bedtime story unless it was nightmares he wished for. Norway couldn't even reach the top drawer of his dresser without the tall Swede or Finland's shoulders. The house surely seemed empty without his brothers around.

He had to look for one at first, but eventually he found a stool he could drag over. His first thought was that the dresser looked old, as if the drawer would splinter any minute. Peering over the top of the wood was harder than he thought it would be, even with the stool. The young nation considered passing the night in his own clothes; what if he changed and left his own clothes in this unfamiliar time and never got them back? Clothes were lots of trouble to make, so every thread counted.

New words were swimming around in his head, and the light bulbs gave him a headache. Six was a reasonable bedtime, wasn't it? Norway thought it was a bit early, but he fell asleep against his will before dinner was even ready.

* * *

As far as he knew, trolls were the strongest creatures alive that were of the earthly realm. Nothing was more ferocious than an angry troll swinging its bat at an enemy. Thankfully said trolls were on his side. Norway had talked to one once when he had worked up the courage.

Apparently this courage wasn't really his tonight. The trolls fled in terror before the rock monster, and he was alone. The ancient rock turned to steel when it glinted in the sun, and unimaginable weapons and points were aimed at his hometown and the country he represented. Norway was very fond of his country, even at his young age.

He was the only human for miles. A small human boy.

Gradually he woke up and took comfort in the fact that I was only a dream. He was safe in his—this sturdy bed. Looking over his shoulder to check for any menacing machines, the Norwegian saw only the headboard and the words søde drømme neatly carved into the rich wood in an arch.

He was glad of his ragged breathing for it quelled his first urge to yell for his brothers. Finland was good at putting him back to sleep, with the tunes of foreign lullabies, but the others would get mad, he was sure.

What he preferred to do was slowly unwrap himself from the tangled covers, assure himself it was all a dream, and calmly fall back asleep, when the shadows didn't loom overhead and look alive.

Norway's first task wasn't going so well though; he couldn't find the top end of the sheet, and the middle was twisted like a rope. It felt like he was in a sac, and it was hard to scoot over a few feet to give him more room to unwrap it.

The bed was bigger than the young country realized, and after taking advantage of his new freedom, he thudded on the floor. There was no rug to cushion his fall either, and he was afraid the sound carried downstairs. Norway squirmed from the lefse of blankets and straightened his wrinkled sleep clothes. Before settling back into his bed, he pulled his sleeves down to keep himself warm and pulled the sheets taut.

When his breathing slowed, Norway thought he had been quiet enough.

* * *

"I've noticed you visit more often now that you don't have to," Iceland reflected.

"Oh, I'm not planning on staying long. I was cold," the girl reasoned. To make her tale more believable she pulled her red coat tighter around her and shivered with the aid of all the coffee in her system.

Greenland refused to put her coat up and instead kept it buttoned up even in the warm light of the dining room. There was just an issue with something that was actually hers being so close to that of his.

Dark curls swayed behind her as she got up to fetch a cup from the glass cupboard; Iceland remained at the table. It was confusing to him why she didn't fill it immediately. The light-haired nation was positive Greenland knew where all of their drinks were, after living with them for so many years. But the female did noting but spin the mug by the handle, letting it clatter on the hard counter.

And picking it up again. Clatter.

"Are you alo-"

"Do you need some fresh air? Your nervous energy is suffocating Mr. Puffin. Gotta keep the birds happy."

Greenland already had a sad look prepared, but she turned it into a blank stare just for Iceland.

"Look at me. Do I look happy? Or is the depression evident in my eyes? They're supposed to be blue. So tell me why everyone in my nation is killing themselves!"

_Problems. This world is overridden with problems._

"Can't most people survive jumping off of fjords?"

Mr. Puffin hopped up on the table and strutted around like he owned it. Iceland wasn't going to stop him, but he crossed his arms and leaned on the table.

Greenland wasn't usually this negative, unless she was complaining about his negativity.

The western island placed the still empty cup in the sink and rinsed it out. She considered leaving, but then figured Iceland was the best person to go to for help. It would just take a while to break down his walls.

"No, humans are not that tough. Especially if they've been ruled for years and can't make their own decisions and have to constantly be a part of another-"

A squawk from the bird on the table cut her off and she bit her lip.

_Denmark needs to quit being so loud_, Greenland thought. A loud thump from the room above her had interrupted her concentration, or what little she had.

"I'm not suicidal, so I really have no idea what the people in your nation are thinking. If I were, I'd be pretty hard pressed to kill the entire nation of Iceland. I know some people care about Iceland; a few visit in the summer."

Iceland kicked out a chair for the other nation to sit in, if she wanted. The female nation didn't take the hint, but instead leaned on the back of the chair at the head of the table. Being as old as it was, the supports wobbled and creaked like a rusty door.

"Danemark's out grocery shopping. We're missing a lot of stuff, and our food's usually bland. Want some*?"

Striding back into the kitchen Denmark's former territory slipped a bag of coffee beans into her pocket. If the kitchen didn't smell like coffee before she came, it always did after she left.

Seeing as she didn't usually like Denmark's food, she insightfully excused herself to go use the bathroom. All that coffee really was catching up to her, and she could feel it sloshing in her belly like the rising ocean as she climbed the stairs.

Her footsteps paused outside a door. Greenland heard some soft cries coming from the other room, and it didn't sound like anyone she knew. She knocked a few times and entered without giving the person on the other side any chance to tell him to stay out.

She would have found her way to this room eventually because every time she came over, she usually ended up spending the night. Denmark could be on the border of clingy and controlling sometimes. That, and she was curious about how the Nordics had been managing without her. Did they expand any more? She thought it quite possible that the child in front of her could be a new colony, but Greenland was sure the brothers had stopped conquering new lands ages ago.

Another coast under his control. What of Norway these days? Should she convince the young nation to run away while she could?

Composure was something Norway built up as he got older; at a young age he was easily frightened, although he would never admit it. It was for this reason that he couldn't get to sleep, and woke up almost as soon as he started drifting off.

"Mom?" Was his first thought at seeing he figure leaning over him. He pushed the covers off him because the room seemed too warm. The young boy wondered if there had been a fire nearby. Where he came from, the inside of the house was often drafty and the walls had corners that needed to be chinked.

"Sådan en sød pige."

Norway sat up fully, still mildly annoyed that his pajamas didn't fit him right.

The blue hem of his top came down to his knees. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he asked, "Hvem er du?"

Well, it didn't look like the girl had any wounds of any sort. But bruises could be hidden under her gown. Her hair was short, like a warrior's or a man's, but the cut fit her well. The pin in her hair was crooked; it looked like one Greenland had thought of getting at one point.

_I guess I'll get up now; this sleep isn't really helping me. These scratchy blankets don't compare to the fur we used to have, _thought the young Norway.

"I, well, I, am free, no matter what Danemark tells you. _Fri_! Oh, man, I should go talk with Iceland before I have the urge to throw myself out the window again."

* * *

A few chilly wisps entered the room, but the rest of the harsh wind was booted out when the door shut again. It couldn't get under the door, either, thanks to the rubber doorstop clinging to the doorframe.

Someone came in empty-handed.

"So on my way to the store, I was wondering exactly how much we actually needed to eat. We are nations, after all. We could save the food for our people."

Iceland sighed.

"Why don't we all just eat rocks?" Iceland muttered.

Denmark's colony ducked down under the table, then decided it would be easier to hide upstairs. She had only had a few minutes with him before she heard the door open.

The walls provided a substantial amount of cover, but other than that Canada's neighbor had to rely on her own speed to get to the stairs and up them before Denmark spotted her. The gap between the dining room and the stairs seemed bigger when she had to traverse it within a couple seconds, and she didn't appreciate having to jump over a chair. Her hand caught her as she swung around the banister and hid her body behind it as best she could, poking her head out.

With her mouth she conveyed to Iceland how much she didn't want Denmark to see her, and it eventually morphed into a rant. She was tempted to whisper her words across the space instead of just mouthing them, because the white-haired nation didn't seem to get the gist. His face stayed completely neutral. She would have thought he was ignoring her when he got up and walked off, if not for the stern warning she saw him give to his puffin, finger-wagging and all. The bird bit Iceland's finger, and he offered it a thin cracker to stay quiet.

Translations:

I dag (Norwegian): In the present

Lefse: a Norwegian "tortilla" with butter and sugar

Sådan en sød pige: Such a cute girl (Danish)

Hvem er du: Who are you? (Danish)

Fri: free (Danish)

søde drømme: Sweet dreams (Danish)


	5. Chapter 5

_I dag..._

No one was paying attention and everyone was busy with their own thing: their own skirmish, their own fight, their own licorice. Norway took this time to leave the small room and sneak out for some fresh air. He wondered if the outside was still the same.

Nature wasn't quite as scary-most of the time, anyway—and it was usually silent. He tossed the sheets off and left the room.

Getting out of bed again he almost tripped. His pants drug on the floor and the bottoms were nearly worn out; the stairs weren't easy to climb down. He found his brother in the kitchen and pulled a chair up to the table when he kicked someone underneath. It was the girl from upstairs. To be honest, he wasn't sure if he had dreamt her up or not.

"What's your name? You never finished telling me," he said.

Greenland put a finger to her lips, grabbed Norway's hand, and raced out from under the table to the other room before Denmark could see her.

"Jeg vidste Danmark havde en anden kvindelige koloni. Hvis du vil, kan jeg tage dem til Grønland med mig."

The out-of place boy sat down on the stairs and asked her to repeat herself. She used hand motions this time, like pointing to herself and outlining the shape of a dress, or making a wave with her arm.

Norway was just about to respond when the new girl—he had caught that her namewas Greenland—dashed around the stairs and out the door. She looked back at him with questioning eyes, but he shook his head. The girl didn't speak his language, but he managed to make out that she was another one of Denmark's colonies. She got up, too, and headed for the door.

"Oh and also I'm not-" he yelled, but she had already fled. "a girl."

Why did he only have to realize what she was saying at the last minute? Norway got up to close the sliding door again when he felt scratchy fingers land on his head.

"We won't be seein' her for a few years," squawked Iceland's bird. It's owner came over; Mr. Puffin landed on his arm. Iceland didn't even attempt to say something appropriate.

"It might storm later, so I'm gonna sit her by the fire and, uh, sit." At his younger brother's confused look, he grabbed a book and sat down on the sofa.

"I. _sit_—" he sat down and patted the spot next to him. "here. Jag sidder."

The white-haired nation held out the book to the person across from him. Following his lead, Norway relaxed on the sofa and gave a nervous smile.

Iceland considered putting an arm around him but ended up throwing the idea out to Mr. Puffin, who perched on his shoulder but switched to the other's. The boy with the hair pin was almost afraid to move, not wanting to provoke the suited bird.

The fire wasn't lit, but Norway's brother just stayed in the moment, glancing around every now and then, watching the snowfall through the window and checking his watch every now and then. And sitting, thinking how hard it was to ever be alone in this house.

Crowding and separating them both on the couch at the same time came Denmark with his new laptop.

Iceland mildly glared; he was use to all the interruptions. The sleek piece of technology sat on his lap, the underside as warm as some of the gloves they had. The Dane tapped his foot in impatience, making the computer wobble unsteadily. He never really did have much patience with the Internet. Right now it was just a blank box on the screen.

Iceland peeked over his shoulder to see, but remained silent.

"Yeah, okay, Ice, today I'm finally ordering you some new licorice so you can lighten up! I'm already getting socks for Finland (We'll see him again eventually.) Is there anything you want, buddy? Norge? Norway?"

The Norwegian looked up from the pictures in his book. Denmark repeated what he said in what he could remember of how he used to talk. Honestly, the older form of his language wasn't terribly important to him, but Norway understood him the most easily out of all his brothers.

"Want anything? What's that?" He leaned over the glowing computer screen, not sure what all the flashing lights were. It was like an epileptic aurora.

"Hurts my eyes."

"Don't look, then." Denmark brought his hand over his younger brother's eyes while continuing to type with the other one. "The magic of E-bay hurts all mortals' eyes," he explained. "And their wallets. Iceland, DENMARK to ICELAND—"

"What? I am paying attention!" His violet gaze was locked on the screen, but it was glazed, which was normal for any computer users.

"Good to know. What kind?"

Mr. Puffin hopped down off the shoulders he'd claimed onto the keyboard. Like many birds, he was heavier than he looked. His feet covered the left region of the keyboard and changed Denmark's Internet page.

Said person shooed him off after he pecked the screen and pressed the back button. The bird had pecked at the black licorice icon, so the Dane was sure that's what he meant. Since when did Ice ever get anything different?

"And now, cute new household addition number Norway, I should probably explain this to you."

He placed the modern technology on the arm of the sofa and placed his younger brother on his lap. The Norwegian immediately slid off onto the floor and looked up instead. The quietest nation moved to the other end of the sofa and calmly pulled some crackers out of his pocket for his pet. The snow still fell silently outside, waiting for the messy-haired country to began. It had no idea why random postman showed up and made unnecessary footprints in it from time to time either.

"This right here, on the screen, is called the Internet. It sends information to other people very far away. Since we Nordics are located in the remote north, sometimes it's easier to tell people to bring us stuff instead of getting it ourselves. And these people _have_ to bring stuff to us. We get to boss them around. Because consumers are awesome and always in control. If you're the consumer, you're so important that you can complain and get people fi—"

"On topic, please," Iceland sighed.

"Right. Well, you place your order, pay for it, and it gets delivered to you right at home."

After retrieving the computer and setting it on his lap, he clicked to the final page of his order. Norway wondered why the border kept changing. The confused child took the opportunity between Denmark's explanations to think. If he had been in his own...time period? Had he really traveled into the future? He wasn't aware magic had that capability. If it did, it wasn't his that had done brothers seemed to have settled down. They hadn't moved in a while, hadn't had to follow animals or run from spirits, and even Denmark was calmer. Usually he was always wanting to play a game outside.

"How much is it?" Iceland handed Denmark a bulky calculator.

"You wanna try, Norge? I feel like you'd be slightly better at math than I am," Denmark said.

"I get that feeling, too, Iceland said. Mr. Penguin nodded as best he could.

The wind roared outside.

"Hey, can you do me a favor, Ice? Go close a window or something. You're so insulting! I can add a couple numbers, I just thought Norway would like to try this hands-on."

Iceland stayed where he was, but started reading off numbers to his brother.

"It's shipping that's the worst. Seks. Fyrre."

The nation with the blue cap hesitated. He knew his numbers, and he saw them on the device, but what was he supposed to do after that? He pressed the six and was surprised when it came up on the screen.

"Where's the 'forty'?"

Iceland typed it in for him and then went back to reading off numbers while Mr. Puffin pecked at Denmark. Norway pressed "enter" and was at a loss when he came up with a large, unreadable number.

"Must be broken," he said.

"Sorry, Norge, but it looks like even Mr. Puffin can use a calculator better than you."

* * *

_I siste..._

The older Norway had built up his confidence just enough to convince himself to try returning to the past. There had been many arguments and Denmark had done everything in his power to interfere with his brother's spells.

He arrived in a snowy field, not sure if he found the right place. The older Norwegian continued walking until he saw a house with smoke pouring out of the chimney. Denmark and Iceland, it turns out, had lit that up the walkway, he saw two familiar figures, smaller than he was used to.

Norway had been curious about the bracelet on Iceland's wrist, so he had taken him out side and showed him how to work a _klukka_ with the aid of a makeshift sundial in the snow. It had taken forever to convince his older brother to come and show him something outside.

"Vel—tid til å fastsette denne," thought the Norway responsible for this whole mess.

His clothes hadn't changed much, had they?

-slut-

Translations:

"Jeg vidste Danmark havde en anden kvindelige koloni. Hvis du vil, kan jeg tage dem til Grønland med mig." (Danish)I didn't know Denmark had another female colony. If you want, I could take you to Greenland with me.

Jeg sidder (Danish). I sit.

Seks fyrre (Danish) six forty

klukka (Icelandic): clock

Vel-tid til å fastsette denne (Norwegian): Well—time to fix this.

Slut (Norwegian): end


End file.
